“your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” -rumi

the false glory in purgatory

a flowing, luminescent hearth

embodying hope

tears

through my soul

when i can't cope

like angels who pick us out

of the ditches we dig

reminding us

we're so small even though our

imaginations are big

there is nothing that i can

prove

with texts and manipulation and hypothesis

conviction is the

most limited instrument

in the language of our species

so watch my hands and

see the atoms

they cut through

a sky is a roof is a skull and

it's all glue

the network

the white light

we

walk through

the grey-ness is only this world

painful, endless blue

and it is our actions

which determine

where we'll be next

inactive good intentions may

have you

chasing a cyclical hex

it's all there,

i can see it now

misery is a demon's

plaything

happiness may be learned

with gratitude

so try to

hear your

heart sing

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

"i, too, am covered in thorns." -rumi

to brace

you were blessed with the ability to control certain things

so forget about the things you cannot

even though you feel tangled in a web of hopelessness

just remember you're found when you're caught

i can see it in your eyes, your desires make you ache

but they aren't things that can be bought

know that the integrity of true emotion can stand alone

even if you think your whole being isn't worth a lot

i insist that you replace your desires with appreciation

and your demons in satin with angels in silk

drink not from the cup of negativity, guilt and sadness

you won't find what you need in mother's milk

instead, just remember the music that flows from you

you can break the loneliness if you just listen to yourself

recognize that your life is only a test and you will see

a door open and welcome you in, if you choose health

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

"if love is a cult we are all believers; cruel, passionate underachievers. kiss the enemy, kill the redeemer!" -Sam Roberts

sister down

it wasn't my time then, it's not my time now

stuck between the sheets of the past and the how

i smell your sweat and i can taste your pain

beneath the laughing and the gloating of gain

i hear your voice like a bell in a steeple

i see your face on the heads of other people

i am sure i know exactly the route you stride along

my brain is an orchestra i can see but hear wrong

tangible friendships monopolized by computers

mysterious strangers are not tame commuters

i'm not sure where bubbles go when they pop

im not sure when the wheels in me will stop

music almost hurts when it hits my heart

i don't remember the beginning so i can't start

the end is near and it brings me peace

i have the same spirit but it has a deep crease

so i get the juice and it feels good to me

but i get anti-social, most definitely

my preference is to go home and listen to my own

hearing my music all alone

it makes me happy

(how many times have you thought of me

when you were intoxicated?)

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

"those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night" -Edgar Allen Poe

his tragic magic

the earth is a heartbeat and

my mother is the hearth

my father reflects the galaxy

when death becomes birth

my ancient brothers and sisters

echo deep in my bones

their ghosts are out swaying

attached to their moans

chants cause earthquakes and

water floods where it breaks

you are only one stream that

feeds all of our great lakes

volcanoes ignite the magic

of our dreams and of our days

the night sky is the backdrop

in a theatre where he prays

hoping to god that he won't bruise

from any miscalculated regrets

gently, his mother asks again,

"do you think i'm pretty yet?"

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

"tomorrow's no burden, time can be overcome" -The Constantines

sand dunes and fumes

i saw your face reflecting off the sidewalk blocks

your eyes were granite and your flaws were rocks

illuminated by orange clouds as the gauze unwound

yes, you were flawed but you could listen like a hound

they were orange because of the city lights shooting

jumping up to greet them, we were kissing and looting

at midnight and at one a.m., please pass me my pen

i'm about to boil over and melt an alchemist's gem

and bundles of ratted hair roll down across your cracked complexion

when we were so far beyond each other's tastes and perception

i tried to ask you how to get out of this long, dirty alley

i tried to show you the mountains from the flooded valley

you are my engine but you can't take the wheel or peel my tires

rings fit and seatbelts stretch but wires spark and start our fire

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

"you deserve to have good things happen to you"

move

for lila

the trailing chirps from a cricket

floating downstream

on a lilypad

on perfectly clear water

and the ripples that meander

around him

the drops that jump

and all the motion

is my ghost

and i'm scared to stop

and look around

yet i smile reverently for myself

and for you

as we frame every scene

and still somehow manage to

admire all that is ugly

there is no waiting in happiness

and no stillness in truth

it is not necessary to be useless

but not useless to be sad

i feel the swing vividly

and choose courage

we are not just a fragment of

a whole

we are the whole thing

even if we're constant grievers

when i move

and when i'm still

i know which to do and when

because i receive directions

from deep in my guts

straight from

one of many

divine wells

maybe we keep bleeding

for the warmth

or maybe we do it

because our curse is our poor memories

we forget we're alive

we forget our bodies are finite

so let's tenderly rip apart passion and love

and deeds undone

now we're builders

you and i, sweet angel

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

"your heart can't grieve what your mind can't see/

still, you were my favourite moment of our dead century"

-tv on the radio

then we are together

wine

do you know why adults tilt their heads slightly,

widen their eyes and sigh at young creatures?

they're sorry for the madness they know they'll endure

and they feel they need to be very important teachers

they forget how fun it is to fuck-up and enjoy

and not care about the effects or the aftermath

they forget how good it feels to get dirty

without worrying about cuts stinging in the bath

and the heart is a muscle that lifts invisible weights

it doesn't need to be a certain size or shape

it is priceless and if you decide to smush it

that will only make it precious, like a fine grape

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

"when you make love to a woman you get revenge for all the things you failed at in life" - Unknown

dying in the northern wilderness

he was a wounded

deer

enveloped by and

burrowing in

the soft, sparkling

snow

falling tenderly around him

it was quiet beyond the northern wind's howl

his skin was as pale as

pearl

and his lips were like

cherries

i couldn't help but

watch him suffer

he was ice

i was aurora borealis

we only stare

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

"it's hard to fly with the eagles when you're surrounded by turkeys" -Unknown

she's so jealous

the old-me sits on my lap

dead and cut up

in the driver's seat

of an eighteen wheeler transport truck

going one hundred and eighty kilometers an hour

down a very steep hill

i can't see that well

she flops side to side

i want to throw her out the window

but that's not a proper burial and

i'm not willing to give my heart to someone

who doesn't know what to do with it

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

"happiness must be free to fly away" -Unknown

the tiger moth

be it not the jungle's will for the noble tiger's claws to kill?

what if you want to sail the sea when you're meant to live up a hill?

tight muscles covered by a rug lure me closer to the ditch mom dug

and yes, i know i should care but i find myself stuck in a shrug.

is this great oak not just a fickle joke,

like the truck that broke in a desert of smoke?

when i packed her lessons deep in it's trunk

and slashed the tires with a branch and a skunk?

how disarming is triumph supposed to be?

is it powerful enough to turn me into that tree?

will her lessons evaporate and push the damn truck

if i run away yelling, "i don't give a fuck"?

if your own blood can't see you or pushes you away

is it better to bleed it than fix it and stay?

when you know that you're wild and longing to roar

is it wrong to grow wings and live near a shore?

it is fascination that keeps me somber and still

and will that cleanses and aids me when ill,

and yet,

the things that are meant to keep me strong and dry

turn me into a striped moth singing a lullaby.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

she ceased and rolled her shady clouds into the secret place

where are you?

a gain came quick and quick came loss

i am stuck, deep, under a heavy, thick moss

i gave hope the cold shoulder and a sharp toss

spit on it's offering and nailed it to a cross

what's not here is much too loud

too cold, too sharp, too bright and proud

you once shone through the pasty crowd

but now you're just an elusive cloud

i have an infinite, aimless clue

always pushing me to do what i ought to do

it stirred me into a tasteless stew

numb are my nerves as you swallow and chew

in my body wanders a haggard troll

his footsteps echo and lose control

he clings onto my organs and soul

but what can i do? i can't pay the toll

this small town has hands and arms

the kind that pop out of bushes with charms

they cut through my skull and unscrew

the screws that help me get by and through

i want to give all my goods to you

but the blues sprayed me with hot glue

so just let me stare at the clock

and please, sir, don't forget to knock

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

"nothing can change but your willingness to change" -Unknown

samsara riviera

why did you bring me back

to start from scratch?

strike my chords with a

phoenix match

slow down to catch up and

snails don't hatch

cocaine membrane

i need an eye patch

'cause i ripped one out with

a volcano's fury

didn't need it anyway

i saw all blurry

you brought me back to live again

told me what, not how or when

gave me suicide and a pen

a lot of love and no fit men

a brain that sinks and skips the beats

misses cues and takes big leaps

white skin that burns and burns and seeps

a sheepish voice, fingers that creep

so many jokes i don't find funny

doctor, i don't have any money

my bread is soggy, my eggs are runny

i'm sorry i'm not happy when it's sunny

i try to stay in the present time

with big dreams in the back of my mind

old men grab me, they try to grind

they want to pay to tap my behind

i am absolutely full of regret

ready to take back all my bets

give me trials, give me them sweats

i'd swallow the fuel from all those jets

those flights i took so far away

hoping someone would miss my ways

at least a face to shine a ray

there's only crowds in stacks of hay

and no one missed me

i made no mark

left no impression and no spark

carved no one's names on no oak's bark

only empty wine bottles in the park

i have lost the ability to fall in lust

a gust of wind took my whole trust

my heart is punk, it's full of puss

and i will squirt you with it, if i must

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

i am stuck in a 1950's french film not yet made

heavenly hosts

there is a stampede of rats

coming down the corridors

they are running away

from the barren farm

everybody screams

and jumps

trying to grab an angel's hand

or some invisible monkey bar

to lift them up

their calf muscles spring their skeletons

into the air

for a few feet, anyway

and then they come down

hard

and rat guts squirt into their eyes

i know to just

stand still and

grind my teeth

and

press my eyelids together

feeling little claws scamper

across my feet and

ankles

until it's over

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

song of the day: send and receive/tycho

Overlook the Crook and Pardon the Jargon

i am the blind man sitting in a rocking chair

in front of my 1980's apartment complex

with an FM radio in my lap that doesn't know

how to play the blues

weary of songs about seeing clear skies,

studying a woman's curves, and telescopes magnifying

starry harvest moons

i am the old lady trying to walk up a steep hill

with a crooked cane gripped by my cold,

clammy hands

feeling the wind pass behind the joggers

who go by, after years of strain, justifications,

heartbreak and child-bearing

i am the addict, always hungry for more

with my hands folded but still waiting, craving

quietly in my anguish, to receive

smelling the baker's early morning batch

too ugly and dirty to go inside and too full of

self-doubt to give myself a chance

i am the schizophrenic, never sure which part

of the story i made up and which part

actually happened

scribbling the words of tomorrow's crossword

in perfect succession on a blank sheet and

painting pictures of natural disasters

weeks before they occur

i am the neglected child of every generation

who never learned how to read and still

i stare at every letter of every poem

and i don't know what similes or metaphors are

but i feel more harshly than any scholar

what the author meant, because i was there in that ghetto

where he wrote it

i am the newborn with nerve damage

who doesn't cry in pain as tumors wrap

themselves around my organs like strangling vines

being cradled by a father who can't let me go

who makes funny faces with his moustache,

laughing and decaying at the same time

i am the crippled lover who can't work and

can't afford the engagement ring,

with my boney fingers pressed up against

the glass casings of jewels

and i'm stronger than any fit man

to lift the weight of a beating heart of gold

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

fuck it!

Playing Solitaire with a Millionaire

I woke up despondent, I couldn't find my mind

I played the blame game with all of mankind

I was shot down by Love, he left me right blind

So I made up a potion that helped me unwind

The potency of this drink was beyond all compare

I entered his brains and fell down every stair

His sadness ate me, I was struggling for air

I slipped into a coma, all flats and no spare

I dreamt I was the daughter of Poetic Mathematics

Even without face, it's beauty was traumatic

I was then put in charge of Operation Erratic

Directions: "Scare males away by being dramatic!"

"But I love men," I said, "I want one for myself."

"No no, my dear, you only want wealth."

"On the contrary, Great One, I only want health

Please force one to pick me up off the shelf."

"Simple lost woman, your home is not earth

Sweet Mother, we found other ways to give birth..."

"But..."

"Yes, yes, we all know your heart is the hearth

But please just go, you haven't got any worth"

So off I went into the lonely forests and fields

Climbing through vines and breaking my shields

My body gets worn and I lose self-esteem

But no animal minds if I shake or I scream

I scavenge for berries and my hair grows long

Grinding my teeth to the tune of a love song

Generations long past tell me to stay strong

One day I'll find a place where I can belong

Long after I die

Long after I'm wrong

Yes, One Day I'll find a place to belong

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

How To Deal With Bullshit People by Miss Carly Marie

HOW TO DEAL WITH BULLSHIT PEOPLE
by Miss Carly Marie

DEFINITION: Bullshit Person (noun ~ [bool-sheet puhr-sun])

1. A Bullshit person is an individual who fails to Keep It Real on a regular basis. Keeping It Real includes being considerate, mature, truthful, reliable, empathetic, respectful, confident and enjoyable to be around. Bullshitters are inconsiderate, immature, untruthful, unreliable, dismissive, disrespectful, insecure and uncomfortable to be around

2. A person that thinks they are funny, but are not

3. A frivolous individual who is incapable of seeing true beauty or believing in anything positive

SYNONYMS: brute, fool, idiot, jerk, nincompoop, ninny, oaf, rascal

ANTONYM: a Person who Keeps It Real.

__________________________________________________

RULE#1: Do not get frustrated with Bullshit People.

The first sign that you are talking to a Bullshit Person is that you'll find yourself frustrated with them before you even come to care about them. They will frustrate you because they'll make issues out of thin air and then act like nothing is wrong. To speak metaphorically, they take poop and spray paint it gold and put sparkles on it and then give it to you as a gift and then congratulate themselves for being so generous. Or worse, they will say something that will hit you like a dagger and then claim that they were just joking. This is a tactic used by a lot of people to mindfuck and trick another person into thinking about them romantically. It causes a type of empty and stubborn intrigue that is hard to shake.
If they're a really shitty Bullshit Person they'll even go as far as making you feel crazy to ever think that they'd bullshit you. This happens all the time. In my personal experience, a Bullshit Person will be dead honest with you when you are one-on-one with them. When the time comes for you to hang out in a group scenario they act completely different. And by 'completely different' I mean conniving and petty. If you confront them about it after the conclusion of the group gathering, they will only get defensive and rude.
It is not worth getting frustrated with someone unless you care about them enough to resolve the issue and maintain harmony, but why would you care that much about a Bullshitter anyway? Right? It is normal to get frustrated with someone you care about but it isn't, however, normal to get frustrated with some random motherfucker.


RULE#2: Never miss an opportunity to keep your mouth shut around Bullshit People.

Bullshit people quietly keep tabs on everything you say and will end up using it against you in some future quarrel or debate in a very hurtful and immature way. They will twist your words regardless of how articulate you may be. On the downside this may cause a Bullshitter to become extremely infatuated with you for not giving into their bullshit. It can be a dangerous scenario resulting in threats of suicide or stalking. I wouldn't worry too much about it, since these are extreme and rare cases. Most Bullshitters know enough to stay away from people who Keep It Real anyway.


RULE#3: Do not expect anything from Bullshit People.

A person with severe Bullshit Disorder may deny their actions outright. They will act as though they don't remember key information or events. I stress caution here because they may be telling the truth. Bullshit People never listen or pay attention to anyone besides themselves, so they may be honest when saying that they don't remember.
As a sidenote, Bullshit people will always let you down when you are struggling. They will also always have an excuse as to why they couldn't be there for you. They will forget your birthday, tell your secrets and take every opportunity to get ahead, even if it means stabbing you in the back or using you as a ladder.
Rejection is also a common exercise of a Bullshit person because any kind of real relationship, whether it be friendship or otherwise, scares the living bajesus out of them. Relationships to them equals useless responsibility, wasted effort and opportunities lost. People who think about relationships this way are unhealthy. Relationships are what make life grand and worth living. It is from relationships that we have experienced deep-wheeze laughing, heart-pounding intimacy and tear-jerking comradery.


RULE#4: (The exception to Rule#3) Expect Bullshit people to always rely on gender stereotypes.

There was once a time when men and women could all sit around in big groups and shoot the shit and get along and hang out. I remember these times and my parents remember these times because they were great and fulfilling. Platonic relationships are dying because most human beings have converted to a Bullshit Way of Life. The Bullshit Way of Life consists of constant blame, shallow insecurities, excuse-making and most of all, gender stereotyping.
It is easy to pick the Bullshitters out in your groups of friends. They are the ones always shooting their mouths off about how "girls say they want to talk when really they just want to bitch" and how "guys are jerks because they don't know how to listen". These personality flaws are not gender specific. If a person doesn't know how to communicate by their mid-20's it's because they are socially inept due to their commitment to being emotionally retarded Bullshitters. Girls who Keep It Real don't enjoy bitching, they enjoy having stimulating and hilarious conversations full of insight and honesty. Guys aren't jerks because they don't know how to listen, they just don't want to listen to people nag about weak and gossipy nonsense.
It is also simply that Bullshitters are selfish and do not know how to care or give, which are also dying tendencies.


RULE#5: If Bullshit people are cluttering up your life, find ways to utilize them.

Bullshit people are like Bozo Bop Bags. It doesn't matter how many times you punch them out, they will always find ways back into your life. If you find this to be a consistent problem, do yourself a favour and learn their language. Once you have learned the Bullshitter's Language you will never have a problem hearing the pure voices of truthful and respectable human beings again - they will stand out like cherries on cheesecake.
Remember how you can't remember much from school? Well that's because school was boring and useless and their methods were all wrong. People don't learn anything when you try and teach them how to be. The key is to teach them how NOT to be. Bullshitters provide this. All you have to do is observe a Bullshitter from a safe distance and they will teach you the in's and out's of how NOT to be. The best part is that they will do it without even trying. And it's free! Free schooling! It is a win/win situation!


RULE#6: Bullshitters will always try and bring you down.

Picking a fight, snarky comments and discouraging gestures are all common tools for Bullshitters. You can spot them easily because when they try and insult you they will usually say something irrelevant like, "...yeah, well, nice fuckin' outfit...faggot" even if you aren't gay and you're just wearing jeans and a t-shirt. This is all followed by fake laughs and high fives to their fellow Bullshitters. They're pretty much just the jocks you grew up with in highschool who just forgot the growing up part. Not to fret, all the people who Keep It Real are still around. Maybe they're hiding in the underground. Maybe this note will help them come out. Just stick to your guns and surround yourself with ambitious and soulful people because Bullshitters don't give a shit about anything and you don't want to waste your time and efforts just trying to ward them off when you could be doing other wonderful things. And if you're still frustrated with Bullshitters, just remember and be happy that you aren't one.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

french kisses and near misses

versailles

heavy spells and heavenly hells

bells ringing deep inside your wells

shells ground down to sand hotels

with eggshell doors where faith rebels

french kisses and near misses

empty-headed penny mall wishes

almost missed rent, dirty dishes

proposal while he alley pisses

a shining glimpse of pimps and wimps

you laughed at me when i limped

it gets so lonely as a chimp

sailing in this empty blimp

you stopped crying so you could lie

but that's okay, the reason why

shy flies rely on shit to fly

and Goodbye's the spy who couldn't sigh

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

my drawings

This is the Triumphant Byam showering her shelter over humanity.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

This is Dudley and Trizzal. They are brother and sister. Trizzal beat up Dudley and blooded her ears so Dudley whipped out a sideways double-heel karate kick to Trizzal's stomach and he burped up a jellyfish. Then Dudley, Trizzal and the jellyfish, whose name is Peter, rolled around on the floor and laughed until they turned all shades of red.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

my drawings

This is Zultan the Manipulator.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

This is Bobby Blueballs. He prays a lot.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

This Batty-Louise. She works the graveyard shift, if you know what I mean.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

my drawings

This is how I feel sometimes when I get frustrated with stupid jerkoffs that don't appreciate anything.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

I love old blues and jazz. This is me at the Blues House.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

my drawings

This is a Zabarfartington. A Zabarfartington is a creature that comes and nibbles on your heart when you are lonely. It hurts. People with hearts all have one. I sowed mine's mouth shut so he would refrain from the nibbling. I named him Hubert and am currently teaching him how to feed on more appropriate organs. If he can't learn I intend to release his lips, sharpen his teeth and send him to one of my enemies.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

This is a Loobakey. They are rapists.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

This is what bad luck feels like.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

This is the face of a man I met once, somewhere. He was sad. His nose looked like an elephant's foot.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

The Cloud-Eater makes everyone happy. He chomps on all the clouds for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

omit nothing

the cure of allure

caught between the bridges of boredom's zen
that lead to a maze,
unaided
i am the egg that hatched inside the hen
despondent, dazed
warm and jaded

there is a mouse constricted
around the corner
it's skull crushed by natural law
and there, a foreigner
her legs flap open
eating and cheating

the jaws of the unworthy cause

and where am i except oblivion?
maybe second-place or purgatory
and clean
so squeeky, redundant, thick and mean

my sister-egg floating
unknowing, downstream

this organic balance serenades my seeds
and softens my thorns
my skin, so blemished, so worn

any objection i once had is now silenced and sad
in withdrawal lies the joy i had

my mermaid slips through the clogged artery
the almighty dam
she begs me to think he likes me for who i am
then the beaver and i laugh like little lost lambs

we holler:
"what a shame...hahaha...what a sham!"
her breasts hidden with clams
and inside the hen
i swam

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

blub blub blub

The Little Stone That Couldn't Sink

It was night-time, way across the world

In the Land of Utter Tastelessness

When a boy marched with ill-intent

He was drunk about a girl

A cluttered whore, nonetheless

His parched tongue quiet and bent

He was headed toward the Sea

Where he threw off all his clothes

To try and turn his rainclouds from grey to white

When he noticed an enchanted tree

And shivered down to his toes

When he saw the leaves sparkle in the moonlight

The moss that grew around it's trunk

Seemed to whisper and hum

As the night owls stared down

Then, out of the silence came some Fierce Funk

To remedy the blistered kingdom

That was his hometown

Behind the Funk came a bearded Voodoo Man

Who popped out of the branches

To offer words of Light

He said, "My needed name is Can-Do Sam,

And you're a dirty sanchez

But I understand your plight."

The boy didn't know whether to be offended or relieved

But continued to listen anyway

Since he was so desperate for the help

The more the Funk played, the more that he believed

But when the sun brought morning rays

The groove was interrupted by a serious yelp

"Look my boy! Look at all these stones!

They are all so sexy and full of charm,

When warmed with some grace!"

Though numb before, the boy felt things in his bones

And so, he extended both of his arms

And compassion softened his face

"Now pick one and hold it close to your soul

Let your heart decide which one to choose

And I promise you this,

That just like a lotus in a boat or a bowl

That stone will float and erase your blues

On the Waters of Bliss."

So the boy closed his eyes tight

And let the Magnets of the Universe pull

And soon he held a plain grey rock

He opened his eyes and growled in spite

"I got the ugliest one!" He yelled, angry as a bull.

"I should've known you were a crock!"

"Do you doubt my funky spirit?

Do you think that I would misguide you?

Or give a groove you couldn't jive to?"

But the boy didn't want to hear it

He was tired of being lied to and striving for things

That he didn't want to strive to

So, he threw the rock far out into the Sea

And stomped away without a blink

When Can-Do Sam twisted his head

To make him see what he needed to see

Elegant and rebellious, the rock floated with ease

Even though it was supposed to sink

And the boy realized that he'd rather be dead

Then let that rock float, lonely, in the Sea

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

why-flowers and forget-me-nots

shivering livers

my romance started in a grocery store parking lot
and in a stranger's swimming pool where we got caught
by that old man in his own backyard just before dawn
tripping over false apologies and the lines we'd drawn

you grabbed my arm and pulled me into your chest
fully equipped with merlot and a warrant for your arrest
our clothes were soaked and our elbows were bruised
i couldn't tell if i was being wooed or abused

you sped me down main street to the park by the lake
the bike almost crashed because of how our skin ached
the danger disappeared when the wheels ceased to turn
your stoneface melting with every swig's burn

our kingdom awaited us, our names carved on the slide
the streetlights bathed us and the creeky wood cried
the swings were our thrones and our crowns, our pride
the days of smooth breezes and manic sly tides

we ran through the trees, away from our woes
jumped into the water without testing with toes
and i laughed when the joy sparked your passion
for leftfield rants on politics and fashion

existentially awkard and ashamed you were hit
earlier, by that fella at The Bar of Small Dicks
your shiner shinin' in that full august moon
i kissed what was bruised, too soft and too soon

i sure wasn't a woman and you sure weren't a man
despite visits to museums and walks hand in hand
i was embarrassed by your defeat but i stayed nonetheless
if you'd kept your pin in my grenade we could've avoided that mess

now we stand in a wide stream, still, in the crisp air of fall
sunlit orange and red leaves crumble like ancient brick walls
you want me but are in love with a thousand other girls
and i promised i wouldn't try and straighten out your curls

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012

a song of mine

i am the patron saint of lost souls

you be right and i'll be alone
i only want what i can own
i won't take what's not there
i'm a thief, a thief who's fair

(glory be)

i hit my head, real hard
gave up my home, let down my guard
can't remember how i fell,
or who i love - ah, it's swell

(glory be)

they say i killed seven girls
raped their mates and kept their curls
though i don't feel any guilt
i'm in this cage that they built

(glory be)

i watch them beat me and i wonder why
pride's so important beneath the sky

they put my mistakes on display
in townsquare, in the light of day
they all scoffed in disgust and shock
and taunted me with a key and lock


(glory be)

a pregnant mind, my dreams are wild
i could never guess the father's child
my mind is blank and my heart is full
i can feel it kick, i can taste the pull

(glory be)

"what fools they are", i sigh to the moon
to think their mistakes won't hit them too

and don't pointed fingers know so well
the twists and turns that lead to hell?
"forgive me father for i have sinned"
i whispered with ease as i grinned

(glory be)

my skin, it changed, one moonlit night
slipped through the bars and out of sight
and now i'm free, though pushed away
rejection is a small price to pay

(glory be)

the past seven me's didn't have to die
said they'd redeem me if i could cry
but pretty faces shouldn't pry
and god, oh, god, you should've tried

down there you can't hear my song
singin', "i was truth, to be so wrong"
as i'm floating above the mountain's peak
he tries to joke, tears choking speech

you paid to have me crucified
you thought i'd rise and be your bride
so, you be right and i'll be alone
my back is turned, i found my throne.

(glory be)
(glory be)
(glory be)

© Copyright Miss Carly Marie 2008-2012